Facebook Shorts written for the Times
by A.A. Pessimal
Summary: Collected short pieces originally written for a Facebook group. To be added to as I retrieve them. A series (eventually) of very short chapters.
1. Snow in the desert

_**Collected short pieces written for Facebook**_

 _ **I was invited to join a sort of online fanfic group on Facebook where I've recently branched out, (in my Clark Kent identity), in writing ultra-shorts. Well, I need the practice in keeping them short and simple. The conceits of the group (ideally) are that all contributing members write Discworld-themed shorts as if they are journalists on the Ankh-Morpork Times. As often as not, the starting-point for an article is a piece of actual Roundworld news, or a photo that is so weird or Discworldly that it would not be out of place in Ankh-Morpork. For instance, my latest piece there stemmed from a news article - completely true - that reported on the very rare phenomena of snow falling in the Sahara desert. (this became Klatch for the purposes of the group). It's a "closed group" – details by PM if you want them - but a request to join is treated sympathetically - you just need to demonstrate you're not a troll or a spammer, and you're in with no obligation to contribute (this is welcomed but not absolutely mandatory) . Thought I'd offer up the best of those shorts here. I'll add them as I retrieve them. Hoping you enjoy!**_

Inspired by Roundworld news article: Stunning photos capture rare snow in the Sahara Desert

(Daily Telegraph Online, 21st December 2016)

 _ **From our meteorological correspondent**_.

Just in via the magic carpet service from Klatch. Apparently bemused members of the Klatchian Foreign Legion on patrol this morning encountered this most strange of phenomena. One Legionnaire was heard to remak "The usual sand's underneath, yes. But what's this white stuff on the top?" Fortunately, Caporal-en-chef Sven-Jorgen Tvätta Denna Skjorta På Fyrtio Grader, known affectionately to his men as a Great Big Hublandish Tvätta If Ever I Saw One, had a rush of memory and was heard to groan and cry out "Great Øffler, I enlisted here to _førget_ thåt bløöðy stuff!"

I am reminded that the _**Celebrated Almanack**_ for this year, generally a rather _erratic_ source for weather predictions, actually predicted that as December fades into Ick, around the time of Hogswatch night there would be snow in the Klatchian desert, placed there as a sign from the Gods. What the sign actually is and what it portends remains a mystery.

From our Religious Affairs Correspondent:

It is known that Foorgol, Lord of Avalanches, has a summer job in Klatch as Haboob, God of Collapsing Sand-Dunes. Given the accepted theological principle that a God will seek to maximise his or her belief by combining jobs, it is suspected that Foorgool/Haboob is being really efficient here by combining both his divine offices in the same place. Indeed, an avalanche combined with a collapsing sand dune would surely be most efficacious in creating new belief by both sets of worshippers. Divine productivity doubled in one fell stroke.

Contacted for an opinion on behalf of the University School of Climate Studies, the Arch-Chancellor is reported to have exclaimed "Global warming? My arse!"


	2. Kythia do Notte Go There

_**Expanding the Kythia entry of the**_ **Compleat Discworld Atlas.1 (1)**

 _ **Previously published, with helpful inspiring illustration, on the**_ **Ankh-Morpork Times: News of the Disc** _ **group on Facebook.**_

Editorial Note: From our intrepid foreign correspondent, the Compte de Yoyo, who has very kindly taken time out from the necessary administration required following his bringing back the survivors of an Assassins' Guild School field trip and nature ramble in remote Kythia.

* * *

That inestimable publication, _**The Compleat Discworld Atlas**_ , to which I am a contributor, remarks about Kythia that "it is subject to the most dreadful infestations of bloodsucking insects, including mosquitos, ticks, and worst of all the Samo-Thrip ( _Anophiles Culicinida Giganticus_ ) , which inflict such irritating bites as to cause frenzied, often terminal, scratching". I can report that I am now in a position to update the next edition of the Atlas with new information.

in accordance with the Guild's principle of "noblesse oblige" and Lord Downey's oft-stated directive that we must be seen to be good neighbours and public-spirited people prepared to act in the public interest, my students and I were unanimous in agreement that the current advisory notices stating "WELCOME TO KYTHIA; WARNING! DO NOTTE SETT FOOTE ON THYS LANDE!" which are prominently displayed on all access points into the region, were not nearly enough and were in any case written only in Morporkian. I am grateful to my colleague Miss Gillian Lansbury (Art Department), who politely declined an invitation to join this expedition, for her thorough grounding in the use of semiotic and imagery to communicate a universally understood message. The new signs that were designed in the Art Department, and which were erected by our hardy students, are reproduced in the accompanying iconograph.

Doctor Smith-Rhodes (Natural History and Zoology) also declined to accompany our expedition. I now appreciate her most earnest and forcibly expressed advice to call it off and go somewhere less hazardous instead, such as the nearby volcanic island of Krapatoa.

She was appreciative of the living specimens of _Anophiles Culicinida Giganticus_ which after some exertion, we managed to trap and safely bring back for her attention. I understand these are now housed, for study purposes, in the Maximum Security Wing (Entomology) of the Animal Management Unit. The concern of the Patrician concerning giant and lethal predatory insects in Ankh-Morpork has also been noted. Doctor Smith-Rhodes is likely to preserve confirmed dead specimens for zoological study. She has requested a budgetary increase to cover the substantial additional costs of the outsize killing jars and industrial quantities of formaldehyde which will be needed.

A list of pupils who, sadly, failed to make it back is appended for the obituaries page. They will be remembered.

* * *

 **(1)** The Atlas is sort of canonical. There is some Terry Pratchett in this book, from notes and scraps of writings, but people like Bernard Pearson, Stephen Briggs, Rob Williams and Rhianna Pratchett bulked it out a bit. It reads like high-end fan fiction in places, (with some not so good), probably necessarily.


	3. Havelock reflects on Donald

_**Lord Vetinari reflects on current affairs on the Roundworld….**_

I can see Vetinari's dry comments on Donald Trump's policies... possibly something along the lines of

"I am watching the experiment, via the omniscope set up to monitor the Roundworld, with great interest. Of course, it is not for me to tell any other Head of State how he ought to organise his country. that would be unwarrantable interference. I do, however, recall when Ankh-Morpork had the sort of robust no-nonsense attitude towards immigrants from outside who were perceived not to share our core values and who were thought of as undesirable. We were then composed of a homogeneously white-skinned and human population drawn from the Central Continent. We were in the main dirt-poor, living in abject poverty, looking inwards, with no input of new ideas and concepts that could revolutionise our outlook and life and permit innovation. But at least we could proudly say we were racially and ethnically pure, with no threatening foreigners upsetting the applecart. It was also impossible, for those who esteem such things, to get a decent curry, a kebab, or an Agatean takeaway. At the time we also had the sort of permissive attitude to taxation that allowed very rich people to pay little or nothing. Surprisingly, this surplus income, freed from the dead bureaucratic hand of a monolithic State thieving it to fritter away wastefully on the wrong thing, did not trickle down to benefit all. Instead it languished uselessly in bank vaults, often a very long way away from this City. We also had a Royal Bank chairman who lived for opportunities to, as the saying goes, "grab small cats", as often and as inventively as he could, to the detriment of all his other duties. such as managing a significant part of this city's economy. Previous Patricians also believed that external wars, often based on flimsy pretexts in the manner of a drunken belligerent seeking a fight after the tavern closed, would somehow make everything right, or at the least provide distraction.

"Of course, these reflections are completely coincidental to President Trump's stated intention to "make America great again" , even though I do recall Patrician Snapcase saying something similar on the first occassion he declared war on Pseudopolis. I do wish Mr Trump luck in his endeavours. I shall be watching with interest."


	4. Mona Ogg, version 01

_**Inspired by a purported "original version" of the Mona Lisa, identical to the final portrait in all respects except that the reason for Mona's enigmatic smile is that she is petting a fat and smug-looking cat which is sprawled in her lap…. This probably computer-enhanced version was captioned "**_ Art historians working on the Mona Lisa have discovered the moggy that was overpainted by later cat haters"

To my great pleasure this sparked off a productive debate on the nature and longevity of Lancre Greebos (I discussed this in a chapter of my tale " _ **Gap Year Adventures**_ ", but some new ideas were introduce that I hadn't even considered about cats, time, the Schrodinger Effect and other possibilities concerning being feline in Lancre).

Rediscovered: an alternative version of the Mona Ogg painted by Leonard of Quirm.

Sir Reynold Stitched is "extremeeleah excahted" about the discovery and is piecing together the provenance. His initial inquiries suggest that the model was "really chuffed" that the artist had managed to include her pet cat and said it was really cute that he'd managed to depict Greebo just as she sees him. However, she thought it made her look too conventionally attractive and he hadn't got the smile right, so could we have another go, Len?

Greebo the cat was less impressed, pointing out with unmistakeable body language that being portrayed as a fat neutered old tom with both eyes and no scars was, to his feline mind, something of an insult and would detract from his prowl-cred if any other cat in town got to see it, so paint it over right now, chum, you get me?

Leonard compromised with a layer of fast-drying and easily stripped water-based emulsion, but very carefully hid the blank canvas away for re-use later.

Indeed, he only just rediscovered it in his attick studio at the Palace, stripped the white topcoat away just out of interest to see what was there, remembered, and asked the Royal Art Gallery if it might be of interest, if not he'd strip the lot right down to the canvas and use it for something else, I mean, you've got the final version, after all.

Sir Reynold is said to have gone extremely quiet and reflective for a second or two, then wobbled slightly, and then recovered from his shock to quickly state that he was sure the Royal Art Gallery could find a spare piece of wall to hang the picture.


	5. Deep Bone writes

**_Inspired by a found photograph of an otherwise cute dog on a lead whose distorted shadow looks like a huge slavering wolf - a trick of the light caught at exactly the right moment_**

 _ **From our canine affairs correspondent, Deep Bone:**_

Yeah, right. They're back, ain't they? Wossname, the Dogs' Guild. You got that twenty dollars? Tuck it into me collar, would you? Ta. Anyhow, after Big Fido went, his right-paw dog, Martin Dobermann, he buggered off to Paraquat, did'ne, till the heat was off? You know, Paraquat? Next door to Tezuman, ruled by, wossname, thingy, a Generalissimo? Anyhow, word on the street is that he's _back._ Ranting on that inside every dog is a wolf. All you need to do is to lose the leash. Gods know how Angua's gonna take this, I'm thinkin' she'll go spare. Really Bursar. Librarian hearin' the wossname, M-word. So you keep the dollars comin', I'll keep me nose to the lamp-post, keep you informed. Twenty dollar a pop, agreed? This city's gonna go up. Where is Martin Dobermann? Word is he's in a coal bunker underneath the old law courts. And you ain't heard that from _me_ , squire.


	6. of braais and barbies

From an FB discussion on Fourecksian barbies versus Saffie braais. Slightly expanded.

 _ **From our food critic Ray Jayner, invited to alfresco summer eating in Ankh-Morpork's colonial quarters. He has not tried to capture the phonetic intricacies of the Rimwards Howondalandian accent. This discourse should be attempted in the best Rimwards Howondalandian voice you can muster.**_

Ag, wellnow, some of us from Howondaland call it a braai and as everybody knows, we invented it and the Fourecksians took the credit, which is sif and a bit zef. We're having a lekker braai justnow and you are all invited, Fourecksians included and even the bloody Morporkians, we have no lingering hard feelings over the War of Independence (which you people call The Boor War). There will also be slaai and mealipap, although mealipap is from the same cookbook that the Klatchians get the recipe from for sheeps' eyes, and you do not have to eat it. We think of slaai as something there for show, and to demonstrate that we from Rimwards Howondaland are capable of sophisticated eating. Just put a small piece of lettuce and a slice of tomato on the plate alongside the vleiss, and that is a sufficiency. We promise there will be food quite early in the evening, let us say at about eleven o'clock, and before that there will be beer and klipdrift. And probably a scratch game of fifteen-a-side on the lawn. Any Wallabies are welcome to compete against we Bokkies. An Igor will be in attendance so you can still share the braai later.

There will also be community singing after about the third round of beer and klipdrift. Do not worry if you do not immediately get the words. We find beer helps and even those who cannot speak Vondalaans – and we do not hold this against you, in fact, we commiserate – soon pick up at least the chorus of _De La Rey._ Practice and repetition helps. And beer. Morporkian visitors will also grasp the general meaning of the choruses to the _Auntie Tina_ song from the non-verbal cues provided by the hand gestures. Again, beer helps. And everybody learns to dance the _leeuloop._ Trust us.


	7. Nature Trails - Assassin style

_**Another short for FB. Harking back to the establsihment of the Animal management Unit at the AG School. inspired by a short of a hidden tarantula coming out of concealment to clobber what is in itself a large - but inattentive and overconfident - beetle. well, a gogga of some sort.** _

_**A short, scribbled in between doing all the other irksome things of life currently occupying my time, like getting some sort of paying gig somewhere.**_

Eyebrows were raised concerning the massive investment made by the Assassins' Guild School in significantly expanding its Natural History and Zoology department. This happened shortly after the Guild recruited and trained Doctor Johanna Smith-Rhodes, a native of the Howondalandian Veldt, to be its principal teacher in zoology and Animal Behavioural Studies. Older Assassins who were trained in a previous age were heard to ask if the investment was strictly necessary, and to inquire as to what possible purpose could be served by educating young Assassins in the doings of mere _animals._ Good Gods, we'll be sending them out on nature trails next to ramble aimlessly in the countryside and collect insects to keep in jars! Uselessly wasting time that could be spent productively on stealthy movement, combat skills, hunting, stalking and inhuming with precision and style!

Doctor Smith-Rhodes was seen to smile slightly. She then invited selected professional peers on a Nature Trail of her own devising, and was at pains to demonstrate that Nature is indeed a thing of majesty and wonder, and that the wise Assassin should be observant and respectful of Nature, whilst retaining an awareness of how easy it is to become over-confident. Many Guild students have indeed benefited from her specialised and well-planned Nature Trails, and have learnt valid lessons of transferable use to the working Assassin. It is notable that after being taken on a nature ramble by Doctor Smith-Rhodes, objections to the investment made in her ideas have diminished considerably. as has any suggestion that this is "indulging" or "mollycoddling" young School students. She is keen to point out the dangers of inattentiveness, inability to recognise clear signs of imminent danger, and over-confidence amongst denizens of the animal kingdom, together with some very clear lessons the Assassin may draw from Nature's rich bounty. She is currently hoping to take a selected group of students of all ages to her native Rimwards Howondaland for practical field training during the long School holiday. Insurance companies are currently quibbling over the cost of the premiums, but it is hoped this administrative niggle can be cleared up to the satisfaction of all concerned.

Students wishing to go on the Howondalandian Nature Trail have been directed to read up on the habits of the wildlife they will be seeing, which definitely includes lions, leopards, hyenas, rhinoceroses, hippos, soldier baboons, Great Apes, honey-badgers, Howondalandian Bees, baboon spiders, orb spiders, yellow spiders, green-tailed scorpions, button spiders, tropical botflies, impatient corpse-flies, impondulo birds, eagles, vultures, aggressive butterflies, and biting Emperor Beetles. (This list is representative and not exhaustive). She is also hoping to witness the mating flight of an Osibisi Queen, accompanied by her retinue of male drones. Students may well learn an additional lesson from observing this, which is not to observe it from directly underneath.

Additional comment featuring Miss Alice Band:

That semicircle of paler whitish earth (around the tarantula's otherwise impeccably concealed lair) should be a dead giveaway too, as no doubt Johanna Smith-Rhodes would point out to her students when discussing inattentiveness, over-confidence and a complete lack of pattern recognition. And if planning such a trap - as her colleague Miss Alice Band would point out in a Traps, Ambush and Concealment lesson - leave no sign _at all_ that you've dug a pit-trap. That white semi-circle is as good as putting a flashing neon sign up to say "Attention - Assassin inside" ,and an invitation to the would-be victim to either avoid or to drop a large bomb on top. " A good idea as the unwary will see no web and assume no spider is present. always innovate in your approach and be unexpected. however, do not assume your client has the brains and the attention span of an insect. that, ladies and gentlemen, is also over-confident."


	8. The perils of anti-Cenotianism

A journalist on a major paper was sacked for making anti-semitic comment. Among other things he said – in print in the _**Sunday Times,**_ not exactly a local freesheet –

Kevin Myers has been accused of reinforcing anti-Semitic stereotypes following his first British radio broadcast since the controversial journalist was fired as a columnist at the Sunday Times Ireland.

"I am a great admirer of Jews . . . They make the most of what they are"

In an interview with BBC 5 Live presenter Emma Barnett, herself Jewish, the former columnist Kevin Myers began with an unreserved apology, before stating "I am a great admirer of Jews . . . They make the most of what they are" Mrs Barnett described the comment as a slur that reinforced stereotypes.

The former columnist originally prompted anger after attributing the pay packets of the two highest paid female BBC presenters, Vanessa Feltz and Claudia Winkleman, to their Jewish religion in his _**Sunday Times Ireland**_ column.

Ye Gods (or maybe even ye G-d), there's nothing like opening your mouth and putting your foot in it... talk about damning with faint praise. I found myself wondering how this would work out in a Discworld context...

* * *

Mr William de Worde confirmed that Mr Myers is no longer employed in any capacity by the _**Ankh-Morpork Times**_ , although he said there was a current vacancy for a janitor and lavatory cleaner, and any application by Mr Myers would be considered among applications from other candidates, without prejudice. Which is perhaps more than can be said for Mr Myers.

Members of the city's Cenotian community were approached for their views on the embarrassing position the Times has found itself in. Rabbi Leonard Blaukreiz of the Central Temple on Gods Street said "Gevalt, William. You cannot be blamed for having employed a schlemiel nebbisher klutz." he wished Mr Myers what he assured us was good health and long life with the proverb **"Abi gezunt dos leben ken men zikh ale mol nemen." (1)**

Miss Rivka ben-Divorah, a prominent member of the City's Cenotian community, assured us she was aware, and that she would be following the career of Mr Myers with great interest, with great _professional_ interest if needs be. She thought she could make time in her working schedule to go round and have a quiet chat on the importance of good manners and not needlessly offending people. She pointed out that she has been extensively educated in showing impeccable manners and courteous attention towards people, especially professional contacts and clients she meets in the course of her work, even if very briefly.

Miss Cripslock, having established a rapport and mutual respect with Miss ben-Divorah, asked if the rumours were true that she was the Ankh-Morpork section chief of Cenotia's Institute of the Invisible and Protective Shield, an organisation with a fearsome reputation in certain select circles. These select circles include the Guild of Assassins, of which Miss ben-Divorah is publicly known to be a graduate and a rising star. With several contract completions behind her on two continents.

Miss ben-Divorah considered this question, having taken no offence. She replied that it was fair to ask, but neither confirmed nor denied the rumour. She shrugged, and said "Oi vey, Sacharissa. It's a part of being Cenotian that you have to be prepared to pack up and move on at a momernt's notice if things turn bad. We're nomads. We're famed for it. I move around a lot for work, and a rolling stone gathers no moss. Sad."

She may perhaps have been hinting at something. Given her slight emphasis on her final words, it may be wise for Mr Myers to change his name and disappear somewhere else. There are Gamblers' Guild odds on his getting at least a chastising kick in the shin. Bet?

* * *

The Discworld nation of, err, "Cenotia", based on hints in canon, and one of its more striking daughters **(2)** and her shiksa best friend, is covered more fully by me in the tale _**Gap Year Adventures**_. (yes. Shameless self-promotion again).

 **(1)** _Stay healthy or you might end up killing yourself._ Roughly.

 **(2)** You would not want her striking you. Not at all.


	9. Diplomatic Crisis in Agatea

_**Inspired by a photograph of a conceptual art installation showing an old-fashioned steam locomotive and a length of track – but rotated by 90 degrees and standing vertically upright, pointing upwards in the manner of a space rocket about to take off. Some people thought this was down to a Rag Week prank played by student Wizards on the Rail Ways. But…**_

As can be seen in the accompanying iconograph, BS Johnson's attempt to replicate the success of the Kite vis-a-vis space travel did not go according to plan. It got off the ground OK but he failed to appreciate that steam power is _not_ an ideal propulsion system in the vacuum of space, and to get a spacecraft into orbit would require a massive investment in terms of track and sleepers with an engineering difficulty inherent in keeping such an unsupported railway line in place. his unfortunately named Velocity Two, or V2, system also caused an international incident when the first prototype space rocket failed to attain escape velocity and inevitably came down to Earth again nearby, but not on, the city of Kancho in Agatea. The Agateans immediately blamed it on the secretive and paranoid neighbouring state of Hubwards Grimchi, who are known to be experimenting with _really_ big Barking Dogs capable of blasting the country next door (with an intention of threatening not only Agatea but the acknowledged Discworld superpowers of Klatch and Ankh-Morpork).

Diplomatic crises thus ensued.

Grimchi, **(1)** the substance from which the nation gets its name, is known to be a cabbage derivative with a LOT of exothermic alchemical power behind it. The thinking goes that if this can be reliably harnessed as an explosive, the nation with the secret will become powerful indeed. It is thought that Lord Vetinari has requested the Guild of Assassins to monitor the situation, and its Agatean specialists are considering the best route of approach to the Hubwards Grimchian political leadership in order to raise these concerns in a face-to-face summit. Meanwhile, inventive minds in Ankh-Morpork, of which we have _plenty_ , are considering how grimchi might be used to power a future space flight, and provide the massive amount of propulsive energy packed into a necessarily limited space which will be needed to make this possible.

* * *

 **(1)** The L-Space wiki has this to say concerning Grimchi: (written for the Wiki by me based on the mentions in canon, I think in _**Mrs Bradshaw's Guide To The Rail Ways**_ , so this is not breaching too much copyright)

Grimchi is a foodstuff known and mainly avoided in parts of the Agatean Empire. It is created by taking significantly large amounts of cabbage (the Jolly Giant variety, for preference, although the Choi Champion is also a recognised variety), macerating it, adding pickling vinegar and the _very special_ Seven Spice Black Powder whose precise chemical composition is a closely-guarded secret known only to grimchi-adepts back home. The ingredients are then thoroughly stirred, placed into specially reinforced fermentation vats, and, once firmly sealed, buried in the earth for seven years. In _very_ deep pits.

The B'Hang family from Agatea moved to the Central Continent, having heard wonderful travellers' tales of a land so abundant in cabbage that it grew almost wild for hundreds of miles in every direction. They arrived to discover the wild and exaggerated tales brought back by a previous intrepid explorer were, in fact, understated, if anything. In a joyous sense of having arrived in Heaven without actually having died first, the B'Hang family established a grimchi-making enterprise that they envisaged would make them rich for life, once they began exporting it Home. And who knows, the local white ghosts, who, get this, could only think of _boiling_ the stuff and eating it practically _fresh_ , yuk, might get a taste for it too.

Alas, the Bhang family were prepared neither for the overwhelming quantity of cabbage nor familiar with the peculiarities of Central Continent brassica. Having established seven _huge_ , custom-made, ceramic fermentation vats and having buried them deeply, they sat back to wait out the necessary years until the grimchi had fermented to perfection.

They did not wait very long.

A series of massive, destructive, explosions rent the air. Ceramic shrapnel scythed down everything it touched. Great boluses of foul-smelling sludge contaminated everything it touched for a radius of some miles from Ground Zero. Fearing they would be blamed for the catastrophe, the B'Hang family moved very quickly away and are lost to history. The population of Seven Bangs has since stabilised at 27, and the railway engineers established a line through the area, threading the railway between seven huge craters, with some caution. Seven Bangs Halt serves the residual cabbage-farming industry, which is yet to recover. Travelling out of Ankh-Morpork, the preceding station is Upper Feltwhistle and the next stop is Fratchwood.

 **Annotation[** **edit** **]**

This is the first Discworld mention of Korea, or a Korean-like country. _Kimchi_ is a Korean dish of cabbage fermented in vinegar. Its strong taste is not to everybody's liking; it's like Marmite. You love it or hate it. _Pak Choi_ is a Chinese cabbage variety.


	10. Music for percussion

Music that goes bang…

Inspired by a discussion on orchestral innovations that go wrong

There is a piece of music, popular in parts of the Disc, that celebrates a long-ago Quirmian invasion of Far Überwald. The Quirmian general insisted on a long leisured lunch first, so as to be able to invade with a civilised full stomach an a sense of all being well with the world as, _ma foi,_ we Quirmians are most assuredly not barbarians. The lunch was in fact so leisured and Quirmian that the attack did not take place until shortly after ten past six in the evening. Votchua Doinov's musical celebration of the war did not get off to an auspicious start, as at the premiere performance in Blondograd, there was a miscalculation involving the mighty siege engines used to give an extra percussive noise at the climax of the performance. Thirty members of the audience were crushed to death because the percussionist, a former artilleryman, didn't get the message about _"do not load them!"_ A later performance in Ankh-Morpork, under the direction of Mr B.S. Johnson, saw Johnson reasoning that Agatean Barking Dogs would be _even better_ than siege engines at the crucial part of the performance and make a more emphatic martial noise.. Their use saw the decimation of the string section, who were sitting directly in front of the percussionists, although the audience largely got off unscathed this time. Damage was also caused to many expensive-to-replace violins, violas and cellos. The conductor said that at least the strings don't have too much to do at this point as most of the burden is carried by the horn sections, who were sitting well away from the percussionists. So in his opinion it could have been worse.


	11. Pit-ponies in Howondaland

_**Inspired by a photograph of some seriously large Bavarian/Swiss/Austrian horns - the ones with the long slender tube and the big bowl at the end.**_

When the the first Dwarfs emigrated to Rimwards Howondaland, enticed by the rich gold deposits to be found underneath that country and a promise that if they ran the mining operations for the humans they could keep 20%, a really big problem was that of hermit elephants nesting in the krumpelhorns. Dwarfs, being a pragmatic people, then started breeding hermit elephants to take the place of pit ponies, pointing out to the notoriously shy creatures that they could dwell in peace and safety and above all remain inconspicuous in the dark. The mutual trust between Dwarf and Hermit Elephant as mutually dependent species is a wonder to behold and indeed Dwarfs now compete in their own breeding fancy with show elephants, much in the manner of Lady Sybil Ramkin and swamp dragons. A Hermit Elephant in a Howondalandian dwarf mine can usually be seen wearing a shell which is a heavily modified and above all muted krumpelhorn; it was held after early failed experiments that a happy elephant trumpeting down a krumpelhorn is not what you need in a mine working a mile underground. However, on the surface where the beasts are turned out to pasture at the end of a working shift should they wish to, the mating call of a Hermit Elephant now carries for miles.


	12. De Vliegende Kerrigiense

_**Inspired by a photograph of a model "Ship of the Damned" replete with screaming skulls and dancing dead - one Hell of a model and my hat goes off to the modeller. It inspired this short...**_

An artist's impression, created to a constant 1:350 scale by the talented Mr Grinjer of the Guild of Artificers (sub-branch: The Ankh-Morpork and International Scale Modellers Association), of an apparition seen on the high seas near Omnia and Ephebe by reputable members of the Sailors' Guild, who were definitely not on the rum at the time. (Captain Jenkins of the Milka assures us the rum ration was running low and was being strictly limited). There is a legend preserved in both myth and in the Book of the Prophet Brutha, held most holy by most Omnian denominations, that the ship which conveyed the Prophet to Ephebe was doomed following the slaying of an albatross ordered by Deacon Vorbis. this was carried out at his express command by the vessel's captain. A demoness masquerading as a Sea Goddess then cursed the vessel and caused it to founder, with its crew of Men and Rats then doomed to roam the high seas for all eternity (note - we know it was in reality the Lady Libertina, goddess of the oceans. The Omnians use different terminology, so if the Lady is offended by being described as a demoness, she might care to look in their direction? We are only quoting their Scripture, and the Times, which strives for reporting accuracy, does not necessarily share the viewpoints of those we report - WdW). Captain Jenkins has no doubt this is that very same Omnian vessel.

It has been pointed out that there is a second myth, of a ship called something like _Die Vliegende Kerrigiense_ , The Flying Kerrigian, whose captain during a period of poor winds lost patience and said something he later came to regret, about "If Libertina doesn't stop being a bloody bitch, it'll take years to get to the colonies in Howondaland..." only he would most likely have said it in Kerrigian. ("Ze is vandaag een echte teef! Waarom zijn alle godinnen zo'n groepje klootzakken?") **(1)**. Unfortunately for Captain van Draadtrekker, a passing gannet heard his words and snitched on him to Libertina, as all seabirds do... she obliged with a wind, and the rest is Mythology.

 **(1)** Created by - an imperfect grasp of Dutch, plus checking in Google Translate, plus a handy directory of more demotic Dutch was used here. On the FB page, I asked if Dutch use words like " _bliksem_ "? I meant this in the Afrikaans sense of the word, but a Dutch reader kindly replied that the word means "lightning" in Dutch and appeared innocent of the South African local interpretation of the word "bliksem". I thanked him with a "Dank je" and said  
"Ah. I wondered that. "lightning" or "lightning strike" is a secondary meaning in Afrikaans, but it can be used more to describe an unworthy, lacking or generally unpleasant person ("Jou bliksem!"). I wondered if Dutch has a similar association, but maybe there it is only "lightning"). It's all in the context... Ek is 'n leerder. Hoofsaaklik in Afrikaans. (een bietjie nederlandse taal ook kom)"

to which a South African reader who had been following the conversation replied "Ek lag nou so hard." I politely hoped she was laughing at the gags and not at my command of Afrikaans. "Lag. So goed soos 'n bier! Lekker. Ek is bly vir jou, ek hoop nie by my praat Afrikaans nie..."

FB. A great forum...


	13. One amazing rabbit in Tsort and Ephebe

_A call-back to my tale_ _ **Bad Hair Day**_ _._

After meeting a very plausible Ephebian with a straight-faced sense of humour, Fred Colon is now absolutely convinced that there is such a creature as the Monopedos Rabbit of Ephebe and Tsort, which is now commercially farmed for its meat. The monopedos is so called because it only has one leg, which is composed of thick muscle tapering down to the foot in a roughly conical way. it propels itself forward in great loping hops at great speed and attaining great height on this one leg, and it is therefore farmed in long, narrow, and necessarily very tall caged enclosures. The harvested neat is sold directly to kebab shops, and if you will care to look, Sergeant Colon, there is a fine example on the vertical rotating spit on the counter over there.

What Fred's confidant did not take into account when she spun this tall tale is that words and descriptions on the Disc, in the presence of a strong field of magic and Narrativium, can call things into existance 9especially when the tale is spun by one who is effectively an Immortal created by magic, or at least malign divine intervention **(1)** ), and farmers in Ephebe are now wondering what the bloody Hell sort of pest is capable of leaping fifty feet into the tallest olive tree to snaffle the fruit...

 **(1)** Yuri the Watch Gorgon - see the tale _**Bad Hair Day**_.


	14. Archaeology

_**Inspired by a press report that a military re-enactment on a historic battlefield had to be cancelled after the re-enactors, establishing camp for the night according to the principle of doing things exactly as the originals would have done, uncovered previously unsuspected things of archaeological interest pertaining to the actual battle.**_

Meanwhile, the Guild of Archaeologists has raised the question of access for its members, pointing out that the Guild of Delveologists does not appear on the professional register of Anhk-Morpork Trade Guilds, and that they are the recognised profesional authority in these matters. Guild head Mr Robinson has noted Professor Dibbler's academic degrees were conferred by the Scrote Mill University and is sure they are the best that money can buy, especially by mail order. He has also pointed out that legend, supported by possibly unvalidated allegedly historical sources, preserves the story that the commander of what turned out to be the side that came second at Blossoms Bottom buried the army's treasure chest somewhere on the site, "just in case". While he is sure this is just embellished legend, Mr Robinson suggested locating this fabled artefact could be Professor Dibbler's principal motive.

Mr Robinson stressed that gold and silver artefacts really aren't all that interesting or informative to the professional academic archaeologist, and indeed say very little about everyday life of the period compared to, say, broken shards of a pot or scraps of long-decayed old footwear. But he remains temperamentally and professionally opposed to amateurs going in and wantonly looting a promising site. This, he thinks, should be left to the professionals, which is why he is sending in Miss Alice Band to emphasise their Guild's clear interest on this site. Miss Band, a dual-qualified Assassin-Archaeologist, teaches History, Archaeology, Climbing, Traps and Evasion at the Assassins' Guild School, and comes with long experience of Stealth Archaeology, a Guild specialism. _**The Times**_ notes that this is usually interpreted as "getting off-site with the loot before anybody notices".


	15. Recycling

_**Recycling.**_

 _ **Inspired by a short of hippos in a zoo in Denmark being invited to help clear up after Halloween.**_

Recycling in Ankh-Morpork: the long-standing problem of what to do with all those pumpkins left over on the morning after All Fallows' is over and the festivities are ended. The undeniable problem is this: everybody buys them but nobody actually wants to eat them. And how many times in this month of Ember have we walked down a street to smell the rot of a discarded pumpkin, or very nearly slipped in the slimy orange-coloured slush of a decaying discarded vegetable?

Well, the Ankh-Morpork City Zoo has pioneered the initiative of what to do with your old all Fallows' pumpkin, and for this we at the Times owe them our thanks and support. The canny Zoo director Doctor Smith-Rhodes, no doubt from experience and practical observation in her native Rimwards Howondaland where hippos are as common a riparine-dweller as rats and voles and otters are here(1), has publicised a Come And Feed The Hippos campaign. People are encouraged to bring their pumpkin to the Zoo and are even paying a couple of extra pennies to dispose appropriately of their leftovers. They get the thrill of feeding the animals, the hippos get a treat, the Zoo not only saves on its feed bills but also gets a couple of pennies per person for it. Everybody benefits, Doctor Johanna Smith-Rhodes assured us. **(2)**

Asked if this is not a matter of concern to Sir Harry King, who is being deprived of the waste and would have an opinion to express, she assured us she had thought of this, and Sir Harry had been proud to being his grandchildren to the Zoo to open the initiative and allow his little ones to lob the first pumpkins into a grateful maw. Besides, she said, Sir Harry gets the speciality dung from the Zoo and has sole contract to collect and dispose of a premium prodict of great value to the city's gardeners and smallholders. He knows a good thing when he sees it and isn't an unreasonable man. he also dotes on the grandkids and loves the way their little eyes lit up with childish delight.

Several cartloads of redundant pumpkins have been sent over to Ramkin Manor, which hosts the City's totemic hippopotami, Roderick and Keith, in a discreetly guarded ornamental pond, where the two very close friends have resided since the unfortunate fire at the Guild of Heralds. It was decided at the time of the founding of the Zoo that they were happiest here, and indeed resisted all tentative moves to transfer them.

 **(1)** At least, in the cleaner upriver stretches of the Ankh and those of its tributary rivers, whose waters have no idea of what their destination is. Riparine life in our stretch of the Ankh is - different. and is the subject of very specialised study in Ankh Ecology. This is largely carried out by Assassins' Guild students who have displeased Doctor Smith-Rhodes, in her other professional capacity as principal teacher of Zoology at the Assassins' Guild School

 **(2)** Actually, she said _"ivvirrrybody binifits"._ But we are not ones to point out the differences in accentation of Morporkian, as articulated by Rimwards Howondalandians. Not with a licenced and experienced Assassin.


	16. Привет в ночь бдительности над свиньями

Привет в ночь бдительности над свиньями – Happy Hogswatch!

ADVERTYISING SUPPLYMENT:-  
Great Hogswatch greetings from we of Cultural Mission of Trade Delegyation of Greater Kneck Confederated States Economic Co-Operation Zone!

Why not come spend Hogswatch with warm-hearted folk of Rus people, who will offer you big hug, hearty slap on back and glass of vodka?

Stay in luxury hotel in great city of Blondograd, formerly known as SaintProdnicksburg, beetroot guaranteed with every meal, look out over night sky and see marvellous view of out Kremlin spires. Funny story: we had renowned architect Chertovskiglupo Dzhonovitch, travelled widely, saw triangular pointed temple spires in your lands, said he could build them here. Afterward he say, govno, that came out wrong. But we say nichevo, not to worry, they seem to fit somehow, we like them, have glass of vodka.

You too can have glass of vodka in Blondograd on Hogswatch. Drink whole bottle, you get to see Дед Мороз in his blue robes on his sky-troika pulled by bears, and maybe his helper the snow-maiden Sneguroschka, his grand-daughter. Who if children are good does not chop heads off with her Cossack sabre, but hey, that just story we tell kids to get them to be good so parents can have relaxing evening drink in peace.

Come to Intourist office on Palindrome Street, next to good pub run by our people that does good vodka, and we talk prices for package trip!

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: the stuff about Russian Father Christmas is pretty much true. Pulled it from the Wikipedia article on Russian christmas traditions. "Ded Moroz" is, basically, the Hogfather. And he is even assisted by a faithful grand-daughter. And all because I saw a picture of Russian onion spires and thought... what if Bloody Stupid Johnson visited and said to Russian-like people - "I could knock you up a great Church steeple" - and this was the result...)


	17. dynamic evolution

_Inspired by a wildlife photograph, of a preying mantis sitting on an unfurling leaf-shoot whose leaves are wound back on themselves in a circular way. Back-lit by sunlight, this generated the optical illusion of a preying mantis riding a bike. Or else an unholy hybrid of insect and machine fused together, the sort of predator that might follow the Tour de France waiting for stragglers to drop out, an encouragement to keep up with the peloton. It was too good to miss and I added the following newspaper article…._

 _ **New animal species evolves in Ankh-Morpork...**_ God of Evolution suspected of developing a predator animal which is taking advantage of the rise in popularity of the bicycle as a means of getting around the City. it is believed to lurk in places where unsuspecting cyclists park their vehicles, believing they are safe and in no danger...

The God of Evolution was - respectfully - approached for a quote on this story. As He is known to manifest in the various entomological habitats of the City Zoo where He may be seen observing those aspects of His creation which He considers to be the pinnacle of the Tree of Life, it was not too difficult to track Him down to the insectorium housing the Zoo's renowned collection of beetles.

"Oh golly, I did rather create a controversial one here, didn't I?" the God said, with a disarmingly nervous giggle. "Let me explain. I'm sorry about all these cyclists who are getting decapitated and devoured. Heartfelt sympathies, and all that. But I'm a God. I have to at least listen to prayer. it's expected. And since those rather clever goblin chaps came up with the idea for a fast nippy two-wheeled contrivance for getting around - look jolly dangerous to me, beats me how they stay up - and the idea took off. Well, that created a hell of a noisy racket on the prayer channel. Cart drivers and taxi-cab drivers, for instance, getting fervent. "Gods, those bloody maniacs! Think they can go anywhere, do what they like, cutting through intersections, riding up on the bloody pavement, no regard, bloody nearly caused me to crash me cart! Gods, can't somebody do something to thin them out a bit?" - Well. you've got to respond, haven't you? It's rather forced on you."

The God might have said more, but a Dark Clerk arrived, and passed on kind regards for the God from Lord Vetinari, and also the request that the God might call by to the Palace for a private manifestation with the Patrician, "… with no great rush. His Lordship does rather like to be kept abreast of theological developments as they happen."

"Oh dear..." the God of Evolution remarked, and dematerialised. In something of a hurry.

Elsewhere in the City, the Guild of Assassins has commented that it notes the use of the new bicycle device by many of its students as a quick and agreeably physically exercising means of getting around. As a responsible educational establishment, it believes its students should undergo a Cycling Proficiency Test so they learn to travel safely and with due regard to the rules of the road and courtesy to other road users. it would be remiss in not insisting on such a test. Doctor Smith-Rhodes, the principal tutor in Natural History and Zoological Science, has been tasked with devising a test suitable to Assassin students who ride bikes, and she believes, having spent time gathering in samples of the Bicycle Mantis for observation, that she can devise a really exacting test that they won't forget in a hurry. The captive population is now in a Maximum Security Enclosure at the Guild's Animal Management Unit, where among other things, Doctor Smith-Rhodes is working out the challenge of devising a suitable diet for them.

Bicycles on the Discworld are alluded to twice; in _**Jingo**_ , there is a static machine in the workroom of Leonard of Quirm, which Leonard believes may have uses as a means of exercise. In _**Raising Steam**_ , towards the end, there is a clever goblin with an idea for using something similar as a means of getting about…. And of course there is the related one in _**Soul Music**_ …


End file.
